


You and your cheekbones

by thewallflower07



Category: Sherlock & Other Fandoms, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF!John, Character Death, It matters who we are, John Loves Sherlock, John is Smart, John is not a Damsel in Distress, M/M, Mary gets to be the villain she deserves to be, No baby, Poor Sherlock, Post Tarmac, Protective John, Season 4 AU, Sherlock Loves John, mary is evil, post-season 3, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-11 15:31:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13527228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewallflower07/pseuds/thewallflower07
Summary: John is done being the damsel in distress. Sherlock has made enough sacrifices for him, so this time John will protect him. He and Mycroft have a plan to defeat Mary, but it all goes terribly wrong. Bones will break, hearts will shatter and fake pregnancies will be revealed. Nothing will ever be the same again, but maybe that is not necessarily a bad thing.





	1. The conspiracy

**Author's Note:**

> Happy eight anniversary to Sherlock and John! It matters who we are. To celebrate, I decided to write another angsty story. Enjoy!

John would never call Mycroft his friend. But the older Holmes isn’t really his enemy either. Right now he is his biggest ally in defeating his murderous soon-to-be ex-wife.   
The two men meet at Baker Street after that disastrous meeting on the tarmac. John has just half-carried the still drugged Sherlock to his bed. The consulting detective needed his sleep. They have to be undisturbed for this.  
After John made them tea he gets directly to the point.

„I want her gone.“

Mycroft blows on his tea.

„As do I. I wanted to take care of her right after she shot Sherlock, but my dear brother stopped me.“

This surprised John.

„He seems to be under the impression that you love Mary Watson dearly.“

„This must be a first. Sherlock is clearly wrong about that and it’s not Mary Watson. Jesus knows what her real name is.“

„What about the baby?“

John sighs. This is going to hurt.

„I have to stay with Mary and play the forgiving husband until the birth. I will hand her over to you then and do whatever punishment you seem fit.“

Mycroft raises his eyebrows.

„This seems rather cruel for you, doctor. Forcing a mother to abandon her child? You loved her at some point after all.“

John snorts.

„Mary is not a loving person. Who knows how she would influence our daughter. I want her as far away from us as possible.“

Mycroft sips his tea.

„What do you want to tell Sherlock about all of this?“

John is unable to answer him at first. His eyes drift to Sherlocks bedroom.   
Two hours ago he went on a plane, on a supposedly six month mission, after shooting a vile man for John. In front of the entire Secret Service no less. On the plane, the detective injected himself with an overdosis of drugs.  
Sherlock Holmes tried to kill himself and John Watson didn’t see the signs, didn’t stop him and nearly couldn’t save him too. John had failed him, again and again, and Sherlock always ended up paying the price. For Johns failure to stand up for his true feelings and for Marys shady past. This will stop now. John will no longer be the damsel in distress.

„I won’t tell him anything.“

Mycroft looks surprised, and John admits that he is a bit proud of himself for that.

„I beg your pardon?“

„We can’t tell Sherlock. Mary is insanely smart and I am a bad actor. It needs to be absolutely convincing because Mary can tell when he’s lying.“

„So you want him to look as heartbroken as possible?“

„He.“, John stops. „He won’t look heartbroken.“

The older Holmes starts to laugh.

„Oh Doctor Watson. I can’t believe you are still so deep in denial.“

„What do you mean by that?“

„That is for you to find out. Hopefully soon.“

Mycroft gets up and grabs his umbrella.

„Just to clarify: You will stay with Mary the remaining weeks until the baby comes and then I can get her into a high security cell somewhere and throw away the key. And then what? Are you going to live with a toddler at Baker Street? Either always give the child to a babysitter or never go solve cases again? Completely change your lifestlye? Always knowing that a criminal could easily snatch the baby away?“

John clearly did not think that through. Would Sherlock even want a baby at his home? He would certainly say yes and then babyproof the whole flat. He would read houndreds of books on how to be a parent, he would buy her a hundred gifts and probably never go on another exciting case again. Sherlock would pretend to love all of it, and a huge part of him probably even would. He would do everything for John, everything to make him happy or at least what he thinks makes John happy and not think a single second about himself.   
It would be terrible. John couldn’t force Sherlock into changing his life just because he doesn’t know where else to go. It wouldn’t be fair to Sherlock. He can’t expect him to change his entire life just because of Johns poor life decisions (again).

Does he want a baby? He never thought he would ever get into this position. If he is honest with himself, he didn’t want to be a father. His childhood was far from perfect and he always considered the 18 months he spent at Baker Street as the best time of his life. He always dreamed of having that again, but now soon with a toddler in tow, he never would.

„I don’t know. I just want him as far away from Mary as possible.“ 

A long pause.

„I will decide when Mary has been dealt with.“

Mycroft nods and leaves the flat.

 

 

6 weeks after that

This was much harder than John thought it would be. He hadn’t talked to Sherlock after he left Baker Street five days after the tarmac. It were horrible five days for both of them. The detective went through the withdrawal and John hold his hand when the fever became too much. Sherlock probably didn’t even remember that.   
When it was over he went back to their house in the suburbs. He kissed Mary on her cheek and thanked her for her patience. He also laid his hand on her belly for a moment. 

John got Mary to accept most of his terms, to as he calls it, repay their marriage. He sleeps on the sofa in their living room. They don’t kiss and they especially don’t have sex. However, as the due date is approaching, John can feel Marys anger about him still giving her the cold shoulder. To top it all, Sherlock hasn’t texted or called. Even Mary thinks thats strange.

„Why don’t you two go on one of your little cases again? After our baby will be here you won’t have much time for that anymore.“

John bites his tongue to prevent a snarky comment from getting out. Their work was important and they certainly did not need Mary to tell things about their friendship.

But, oh god, John misses him. He practically aches for him. For his voice, his lips, his smile, his ridiculous cheekbones, his laugh, his long and rapid deductions, how his face lits up when John calls him extraordinary, how he climbs over all their future, how he plays his violine to distract John from dark thoughts, them running together after a criminal, them having take-away after a stressful case, them watching James Bond marathons together, him snuggling up Sherlock with a warm blanket when he fell asleep on the couch again. It was their life and it certainly wasn’t perfect. They had lots of fights and Sherlock overstepped a red line several times. But it was their life. Imperfect and so beautiful. If John had to write a list of reasons why he loves Sherlock, the list would never end. 

He had tried to keep himself busy with painting the nursery in a hideous blue and buying some other stuff, but his heart just wasn't into it. He didn't look forward to his child and he felt like a horrible person because of that. 

„John! Come in here.“

John sighs. He was just about to make his bed in the living room again. He gets up and walks into the bedroom. Mary is standing next to the bed and pointing angrily at it.

„Get in.“

John stops.

„Why?“

Mary lets out a frustated scream.

„Because you are my husband and this is where you belong. In the bed, with me. With your pregnant wife.“

John refused to move.

„You agreed to my terms Mary. I am not ready.“

„But you forgave me!“

„You shot my best friend.“

Mary rolls her eyes, exasperated.

„You still talking about that?“

John just stares at her.

„OF COURSE I am still talking about it! You nearly killed him. He flatlined on that table!“

„But he didn’t die.“

„Certainly not because of your lack of trying.“  
Fuck. He said too much. He shouldn’t have said. Fuck fuck fuck. He was supposed to play the charming and forgiving husband, not a ragemonster.

Mary looks triumphant.

„I knew it. I knew it! Oh John, you nearly fooled me.“

Fuck. He didn’t know what to do. It was over, he failed.“

Mary smiles.

„Let me guess- Sherlock doesn’t about it. He believes we are living in married bliss. You are breaking his heart John!“

Yes. Yes, he did and he didn’t even do it correctly.

„So, what are your plans for me?“

He has to contact Mycroft somehow. The older brother didn’t install any cameras because they were too afraid that Mary would find one of them. He has to know what happened here. John must play for time.

„It’s over, Mary. The game is over. You lost.“

She just laughs and suddenly there is something weirdly looking in her hand. She throws it at him.

„No, John. The game is never over. Not until I say so.“

He smells something weird. Everything goes black and his last coherrent thought is about Sherlock. 

Please, Mycroft. Keep him safe.


	2. Two bullets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I've updated a bit later than I originally thought.

The first thought John had when he saw Sherlock crumpled on the ground was pure, hot anger.

He already had his gun out and he pointed it straight at Mary. Her weapon was held to Mycrofts head, who was kneeling on the ground. She was standing next to the Holmes brother.

That’s when he noticed that she was no longer pregnant.

Mary must have read his aghast face correctly because she answered his question.

 

„It just became a bit too hot under that, with all the action happening here.“

 

„When were you planning on telling me about it?“

 

„Honestly, I wasn’t sure.“

 

„You really are short-sighted then.“

 

Mary laughs. „Was that one of Sherlocks deduction about me?“

 

„One of his first, actually. He always knew there was something wrong about you.“

 

Sherlock was slowly turning around to look at him. The right side of his face was swollen and there was a big bruise directly under his eye. She had broken his collarbone. He felt the anger burning him up like a volcano. John promised himself that Mary would never lay another hands on his Sherlock.

 

„You bitch!“

 

John started to sprint to Sherlock, but Mary only tutted and clicked the safety of her gun of. Both Mycroft and Sherlock flinched.

 

„I just decided to give the homewreaker a small taste of what is yet to come.“

 

„You’ve got it wrong, Mary. I never cheated on you.“

 

She looked genuinely surprised.

 

„Even before you decided to shoot him, our marriage was struggling. After you tried to kill the love of my life it was over.“

 

Sherlock was staring at him, looking shocked. John feels the same. He didn’t mean it to slip out like that, in this kind of situation. It was supposed to be just them, safe and sound in Baker Street, their sanctuary. At least now his secret was out and he didn’t to pretend anymore. All was left was praying that Sherlock would feel the same.

 

„I decided to act like I have forgiven you. Mycroft and I wanted to play for time, for the baby. To keep you in my sight, I was prepared to come back to you and to play the happy and commited husband again.“

 

After his confession, there were a few seconds of stunned silence.

 

„Oh John! I am impressed. You managed to lie to me and to Sherlock! Looks like we were underestimating you the whole time.“

 

Sherlocks shocked face was slowly morphing into hurt. I’m sorry, John thought. I will explain.

 

„If I may.“

 

Finally, Mycroft speaks. John was starting to wonder if the man had swallowed his tongue.

 

„We are in a complicated situation here. Doctor Watson and Miss Morstan both want to shoot each other and I am the hostage. My dear brother needs medical attention so I’m suggesting to speed the process up a little.“

 

John looks confused, while Mary cocks her head.

 

„No.“

 

Sherlock was slowly standing up, his face pale, knees shacking.

 

„No. I won’t let you do this.“

 

„I am doing what is necessary.“

 

„It’s not.“

 

Sherlock looked at Mary: „Take me.“

 

„No!“

 

John realised what Mycroft was suggesting. Mary looked like she had the fun of her life.

 

„Thanks Sherlock, but I’m gonna stick with the older one here. Much more expensive, you see?“

 

She tussled his hair:„We are going to leave this house now and get ourselves a nice car.“

 

Mycroft stood up. He was looking directly at Sherlock and his face was apologetic.

 

„I am so proud of you, Sherlock.“

 

 

John never thought of Mycroft as fast or good at hand to hand combat, or really any combat. The man hated his so called legwork. He had no chance against a trained assassin, and he knew it. But he did it anyway.

 

„NO!“

 

Sherlocks agonized scream was all John could hear as Mycroft was trying to wrench the gun out of Marys grip. There wasn’t any struggle, she just acted on instinct and shot him merclessly in the head. For a second everything seemed to stand still. Mycroft was falling into himself, hitting the ground. A strangled sob came out of Sherlocks mouth.

And Mary began to run.

He should have stayed with Sherlock, but John knew that as long as Mary was walking this earth, they would never be safe. So he sprinted after her. The chase was short, the shot clean.

Sherlock was sitting on the ground and craddled the head of his brother in his lap. His hands tried to stop the bleeding, to keep the remants of the head together. His lips were moving frantically without saying anything.

That’s how John finds him. He carefully loosens his fingers and presses the shaking and now crying Sherlock to his chest.

 

It was over.

 

* * *

 

 

In the weeks after Mycrofts murder, Sherlock didn’t speak much. At first it was because of his broken bone, then because of the painkillers, and then because his mother didn’t seem to stop talking. About Mycroft, about what happened, about the funeral and about all of their feelings. His father was always sitting quietly beside her, holding her hand.

When it was all over and done with, when the Holmes parents were on their way back to their house, when Anthea had brought Mycrofts ring and photos over, when Mrs Hudson was back downstairs and everything was only them and quiet again, they could finally talk. John tells him about his and Mycrofts conspiracy and about the weeks leading up to his murder. Sherlock listens. He even looks proud of him. They held hands and simply breathe together.

 

„I love you too.“

 

John cubs his beautiful face in his hands and traces his lips with his fingers. They have time. They have fought for this for many years. They have bled and killed and suffered and mourned. They have lost so many things but they have also gained each other. They. It feels good that this tiny word finally applies to them again.

Their lips meet. They deserve this. And so much more.

**Author's Note:**

> Next and last chapter will be up tomorrow or the day after that. Constructive criticism is always welcome! I would love to read your thoughts.


End file.
